


Day One

by JuliaRose12



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Breakfast, Fluff, Future Fic, Jack and Bitty are happy and that's what matters, M/M, Retirement, SO MUCH FLUFF, cooking together, married zimbits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 23:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaRose12/pseuds/JuliaRose12
Summary: On day one of his retirement, Jack wakes beside his sleeping husband to sunlight rather than his alarm.





	Day One

**Author's Note:**

> This pile of fluff happened out of nowhere last night after talking with my best friend about Jack being able to eat anything Bitty makes after he retires, which got me thinking about the first lazy morning of Jack's retirement. (writing something without planning?? who am i). I googled around for the average age of retirement for hockey players and it said somewhere around 28, so I see Jack as somewhere in his early/mid 30s in this fic. Any feedback would be much appreciated!!

It's not his alarm, blaring into a room bathed in darkness, that wakes Jack. It's the sun, streaming bright and clear through the curtains, that rouses him from sleep. He rubs his eyes lazily, rolling over to glance at the clock on his nightstand. “10:03 AM” blinks back at him, and he exhales deeply as he presses his face even further into his pillow. Waking up this late feels foreign; he's used to navigating through the bedroom in the dark, pulling on his workout clothes as quietly as possible so he can leave in the early hours of the morning without waking his husband. 

Today, though, is the first day of his retirement, and it doesn't require any alarms. 

Bitty stirs next to him, yawning with his eyes still closed and nuzzling his cheek into the space above Jack’s ribs.

“Good morning, baby,” he turns his head upwards and meets Jack’s eyes with such an endearing look that it makes Jack’s chest clench. “How did you sleep?”

“Really good,” Jack smiles and presses a fluttering kiss to the crown of Bitty’s head. “I hope you did too.”

“I did indeed,” Bitty sounds more awake now, and he sits up, stretching his shoulders and then pecking Jack’s cheek as he climbs out of bed. “I'm going to go get started on breakfast.”

“Okay,” Jack feels Bitty’s smile warming his bones, filling him with the kind of energy that nothing else can. “I'll be out in a few minutes.”

“Take your time, sweetheart.” Bitty gives him another grin as he disappears down the hall, and Jack pushes himself up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. 

Nothing aches today, which is nice. The nagging pain of old injuries will come and go (he's sure about that), but today, he feels refreshed. He moves to stand in front of the mirror, studying the collection of scars he's gathered over his career. One skinny, faded one snaking down the side of his cheek. A surgery scar across his shoulder, from his third season with the Falconers. One on his hip, from even before he went to Samwell, that he hasn’t payed attention to in years.

A warm feeling settles over him, and it takes him a moment or two to recognize it as pride. He's proud of himself, which is a feeling that, ten or so years ago, he never thought he'd feel again. He had an incredible career, won three Stanley Cups as captain of his team, took home so many awards for his individual playing over the last few years that Bitty insisted on building a cabinet for them, and has the greatest husband on the planet. 

He's happy. 

He's happy, and he turns that realization around in his head as he pulls on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and wanders into the kitchen. 

“Bits,” Jack half-laughs and half-moans as he inhales a million different scents at once. “Everything smells amazing.”

“I'm so glad you think so,” Bitty looks up from the stove (their stove, Jack thinks. Their kitchen, their apartment, their amazing, perfect life). “I hope you're in the mood for waffles! And pancakes.” He pauses, looking around at the bowls of batter covering the counter, but the mess doesn’t seem to faze him. “I started on some maple apple muffins too, and I took some bacon out of the freezer. I may have to run some of this stuff by the neighbors later.”

Jack laughs, and it feels so, so easy. “It all sounds great. No more diet plan, remember?” 

“Well of course I remember,” Bitty clucks his tongue as he pours pancake batter onto the griddle. “You can eat everything I make now! The days of excuses are in the past, Mr. Bittle.”

Jack nods. “We'll have to stock up on maple syrup.”

“Jack,” Bitty drags out his name in a whine, but it's all for show. “Not everything has to be maple-flavored.”

“Tell that to the newly-retired NHL player who can now eat whatever he wants.” Jack watches Bitty recognize the chirping nature of his voice, and receives pancake batter flicked at his face in response. 

Bitty continues pouring and flipping pancakes as Jack walks around the counter and starts frying pieces of bacon on one of the other burners. They focus on cooking, working nearly effortlessly beside each other, until Bitty starts fidgeting and puts his batter spoon back into the bowl.

“Sweetheart,” he pauses, chewing on his lower lip like he's trying to find the right words. “How are you feeling?” 

Jack turns to face him, confused, before he quickly starts talking again. 

“It's just… I wasn't sure how you'd feel today. About being retired?” He seems hesitant to finish his sentence, which isn't like him, but Jack gives him the most attentive look possible and he continues. “It's a big change, and hockey has been your life for so long. I know that this was fully planned out, and you were ready, but I didn't know if you'd be sad now that it’s real? Or just… I don't know. I was just a little bit worried.”

“I love you,” Jack leans down to kiss Bitty as his face shifts from a concerned look to an earnest smile. It's perfect, and Jack wants to just stand here and kiss him like this forever, but he pulls back after a moment to give him an answer. Bitty’s face is flushed and his hair is still sleep-rumpled, and Jack brushes some of it away from his forehead. 

“I love you too,” Bitty reaches for Jack’s hand where it rests on the counter, and squeezes hard. 

“I think I feel good?” Jack realizes once the words are out of his mouth that they’re phrased like a question, but it feels right. “It definitely feels weird. Honestly, I was worried about how I'd handle it too.” He pauses, again, because he really wasn’t sure what the first day of his life as not-a-hockey-player would feel like. “But this morning has been so, so good, Bits. I don't need to decide right now where I want to go next, and that feels nice.”

“I'm so glad, honey,” Bitty breathes out a rush of air with a smile on his face, and pulls Jack into a hug. Jack leans into it, splaying his hands over Bitty’s back and revelling in the feeling of his wedding band rolling around his finger over Bitty’s shirt. 

“Thank you,” Jack whispers. “For everything.” Bitty makes a muffled soft sound against his chest, and Jack pulls him in even closer. “And by the way, you're my life. Hockey is just a part of it.”

“Jack Bittle,” Bitty steps back, his face completely red and his eyes glistening, and playfully slaps Jack’s chest. “You can't just go sayin’ things like that without warning me.”

“You can't stop me,” Jack teases, and Bitty turns back to the pancakes. 

“I don't suppose I can, and I can't really say that I’d want to.”

They cook together in complete harmony until everything is finished, and Jack sets the table as Bitty piles two plates high with enough breakfast variety to fill a buffet. 

Bitty hands Jack his plate over the counter and suddenly the perfectly-set table feels far too formal. They end up perched on the edge of the couch, alternating between eating and throwing pieces of waffle at each other as the sun rises higher in the sky and the morning turns into the afternoon. 

“That was so good,” Jack pushes his plate to the middle of the coffee table a half hour later and leans back against the cushions. He can't remember the last time he felt this full, but that's allowed now, and he relaxes even more as Bitty leans against his side and drapes an arm over his stomach. 

“Is it time to go back to sleep yet?” Bitty yawns and Jack curls an arm around him, lazily fiddling with the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“No,” a laugh bubbles out of Jack, deep and earnest and real, and he rests his cheek on the top of Bitty’s head. “But I think we can stay here for a little while. We don't have anything to do today.”

They don't have anything to do for the rest of the day but exist beside each other, and that's better than anything Jack could possibly imagine.


End file.
